


Febrile

by SensitiveOrange



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: :), Domestic Fluff, Fluff, In all honesty the ending is rushed, Influenza, Keith (Voltron) is a Good Boyfriend, Lance (Voltron) is a Good Boyfriend, M/M, Oneshot, Sickfic, but i really wanted to finish this because it's been so damn long since i've written something, enjoy losers, i hope this doesn't flop or anything, im shit at tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24652378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SensitiveOrange/pseuds/SensitiveOrange
Summary: With a fever of one hundred and two degrees, Keith would make sure Lance wouldn’t be departing from his spot on the bed for a long time.*CLICK SHOW CREATOR'S STYLE FOR BEST VIEWING*
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62





	Febrile

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to get back into writing. Nuff said.
> 
> This one-shot was inspired by a request I received on KL Amino.

The thick cotton blanket covering Lance’s trembling body did little to mask the horrible state he was in. Not so long ago, Keith came in and sat on the edge of the mattress, ready to take his temperature with a thermometer, or at least he tried to.

“Babe, come on, it’s going to take a second, I promise.” The older tried to coax when Lance wasn’t exactly the most cooperative. The Cuban threw the blanket over his head and stayed put in his position, mumbling indignities under his breath about how he just didn’t feel like it. Keith pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, a little exasperated with Lance’s stubbornness, although he understood that the other wasn’t feeling his best so his irritation was short-lived and replaced with sympathy. 

“Please?” Keith spoke softly, placing a hand against the shivering heap that was his boyfriend, palm rubbing soothing circles into what he assumed to be Lance’s back. Lance responded with a quiet hum and peeked his head out from under the covers, eyes bloodshot and slightly swollen. He could hardly keep them open without feeling as if something was piercing his skull from within. 

“Fine..” Lance replied in a low, quiet tone that almost shattered Keith’s heart, making him wish that he’d gotten sick instead. Thick brows furrowed and a frown came onto his expression. He instructed Lance to open his mouth, carefully slipping the thermometer under his tongue.

“Don’t spit it out, okay?” Keith murmured, immediately picking up on the other boy’s discomfort. He placed a reassuring hand on Lance’s chest and sighed, gently taking the thermometer out of his mouth once he heard the small beep. He read the thermometer and let out a long sigh. With a fever of one hundred and two degrees, Keith would make sure Lance wouldn’t be departing from his spot on the bed for a long time. 

“What’s it say?..” Lance slurred out, letting his head tip back against the pillows in a bid to relieve the pounding in his mind that seemed to increase tenfold with each passing minute. Keith reached across the bed to set the thermometer on top of the night table before placing his hand against Lance’s forehead, gently brushing back the hair that kept getting in his eyes. 

“You have a high fever. Over one hundred degrees.” He murmured, voice dripping with concern. The Cuban boy groaned quietly and figured as much, yet all he could do was focus on how pleasant the coldness of Keith’s palm pressed against his boiling hot skin was. It alleviated his headache, just a little, he noted. 

“Great..” Lance whispered, letting out a small huff of disappointment. He really had no clue as to why or how he got sick in the first place; he remembered feeling fine yesterday. No signs of illness, no precursor symptoms or anything of the sort. The only conclusion he could come to was that it were flu season, but he would’ve assumed to have gotten at least a warning sign. He snapped out of his reverie when Keith pulled his hand away and shifted to get up, a needy whine spilling from his lips at the other’s absence.

“Hey, where are you going? Babe?..” He tried making grabby hands towards Keith, willing him to return but it never came, all he received was a brief ‘I’ll be right back’ in return as he watched the other head out of the bedroom. 

He didn’t realize how cold he was until Keith had left, teeth clattering and limbs trembling with a violent force. Lance laid there whimpering and shivering like a madman, the pain that lingered in his head suddenly hitting him with full force, causing him curl up into a tight ball under the blankets in hopes of relieving it in some way or another. 

With a tray containing a small bowl of chicken noodle soup in hand, Keith returned to the room about fifteen minutes later, although to Lance it seemed like hours, having lost the concept of time due to how delirious he became.

When he heard the set of footsteps approaching the bed, Lance shifted his head out from under the sheets and screwed his eyes shut, finding that the sunlight peering through the blinds worsened his migraine. He quickly retreated and hid back under the sheets, letting out a series of wet coughs. Guilt pooled up in Keith’s stomach at the sight, wishing he hadn’t left Lance alone in the first place.

“I’m sorry if I took long, I wanted to make you some soup. Figured you might’ve been hungry.” The older apologized sincerely and situated himself on the edge of Lance’s bed, “Come on, eat it while it’s still warm.”

“No, I can’t..” Lance whispered, knowing that if he even tried to sit up, he would become nauseous and wind up vomiting, and that was the last thing he wanted Keith to deal with. “It hurts to move..” He added, voice small and weak, emphasizing that he was really in no shape to do anything other than rest. 

“Okay.. okay..” Keith sighed, refusing to argue with Lance because he didn’t want to exacerbate his illness or upset him any further. “I’ll put it away for later, then. I’ll bring you medicine in the meantime. Okay?” He questioned softly, not wanting to abandon Lance like he did before. He waited for a response, running one of his palms along the edges of his blanket. Lance instinctively leaned into the touches before muttering a quiet ‘okay’, giving Keith the permission he needed to leave. 

Keith steadied his grip on the tray before coming to a stand, whispering to Lance he’ll be back before he knew it and started for the door. He walked carefully down the hallway, so he wouldn’t spill anything, brows furrowing as he thought about Lance and how he felt. He descended the staircase and went into the kitchen, placing the tray down momentarily on the counter to search the cupboards for a thermos. He refused to let anything of what he made go to waste. When he successfully located one, he uncapped it and transported the warm liquid from the bowl into the thermos, filling it to the tippy top. He hummed softly, screwing the cap back on before placing the thermos into the fridge to chill, snatching a bottle of water to take to Lance before closing the fridge with a sigh. 

Keith made for the bedroom once more, bottle of water in hand as he clambered his way up the stairs in a hurried fashion. He rushed into the room, finding Lance in the same position as before although this time the Cuban had his head out and was resting his cheek against the pillows. He offered a small smile and neared the bed, positioning the water bottle in between his legs and extending a hand out to grab the pill bottle. He uncapped it and took out a pill, 

“Open your mouth.” 

Lance winced and sat up a little, parting his lips a little to allow entrance for the pill. Keith opened the water and helped his boyfriend drink by holding the bottle up to his mouth, letting him take a few sips to swallow the pill before pulling it away. 

“B-Babe.. I’m thirsty..” Lance complained with a soft whine when Keith withdrew the bottle.

“I know, love. But I don’t want you to throw up or anything. ”However, Keith complied and let Lance drink as much as he needed, watching him swallow every last bit of water he could. Now empty, Keith discarded the bottle into the small trash bin beside the bed, flashing Lance a sympathetic smile. Lance just groaned in response and rolled onto his side, a whimper escaping his lips as his stomach churned with a painful gurgle. He knew drinking a large amount of fluid like that was detrimental to his current state, expecting nothing but abdominal cramps to surface within the next couple of hours, but he couldn’t seem to care at that moment. 

Keith sighed quietly, and moved to lay with his lover under the sheets, beginning to run his hands all over Lance’s shoulders and arms in a soothing manner. Lance hummed in appreciation, his shoulders falling slack. The older took that as a sign and continued with the gentle motion, glad to help Lance feel better in any way he could. 

“I’m here, babe. You’ll be okay, I promise. I’m going to take care of you.” He whispered softly, brushing his lips close to Lance’s ear before pressing kisses to inflamed cheeks. Lance mewled quietly and pressed flush against Keith’s body, desperate for warmth of any kind. Keith got the notion and tangled his limbs around his boyfriend, securing him in a loose but firm embrace. 

The rest of the day was spent in bed, save for the few times Keith went to help Lance in going to the bathroom. A wet towel was placed on Lance’s forehead, and every twenty-to-thirty minutes Keith would get up and re-soak the cloth so it’d maintain its coolness. He repeated this cycle until Lance said he began to feel much better, proving his point by sitting up with no complaint or hassle.

The sheets were damp from the fever Lance eventually sweat out, much to Keith’s relief. By that point in time, Lance was able to stand up without the help of his boyfriend; the pain in his muscles had subsided thanks to the medicine he had taken earlier. Keith instructed Lance to wait while he changed the bed sheets and replaced the old ones with clean linen sheets, bundling up the soiled sheets and discarding them into the clothing bin. 

Lance utilized that time to remove his shirt, which was drenched in his own sweat. Cringing, he tossed it into the clothing bin and went to his wardrobe, searching through it until he found something he wanted to wear. He slipped on a long sleeved shirt in replacement and eyed himself in the mirror with a small smile. 

“Feeling better, huh?” A lopsided grin tugged at the corners of Keith’s lips as he noticed Lance returning to his normal, preppy self. He was ecstatic, having wanted nothing more than to see his boyfriend recuperate and feel better. Lance glanced over at him and nodded, approaching Keith with open arms to embrace him.

“Mhm.. thank you.” He hummed with a grin, nestling his face against a porcelain neck. Keith’s arms wrapped around Lance’s waist and he pulled him impossibly closer. 

“Of course. I’m glad you feel better.” Keith hummed, “ I hate seeing you so under the weather.” He carded his fingers through chestnut brown curls and chuckled softly, “So how about that soup?” He questioned after a moment of silence, assuming Lance must’ve been hungry after all those hours.

As if Keith read his mind, Lance picked his head up and nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah, ‘m famished.”

“Alright, little sips only. Can’t have you throwing up or anything.” Keith teased in a way that sounded like he was talking to a child, voice edging with fondness. Lance shot Keith a glare and pouted.

“Hey, shut up. I’m fine now, and I don’t need to take small sips.” He retorted and gently shoved Keith by the chest, causing the other to laugh.

“Okay, okay.. I believe you-” Keith cleared his throat and pulled away from their embrace, smiling as he offered a hand for Lance to take. “You’ll take normal sips.” He couldn’t help but tease further. The Cuban boy narrowed his eyes and stuck his tongue out at Keith before slipping his hand into his and intertwining their fingers.

“Yes. I will take normal sips.” Lance reiterated, sounding quite proud of himself for saying such a thing. “C’mon. I’m going to go feral if I don’t eat something.” Lance rolled his eyes playfully and dragged Keith out of the room, the older trailing after him with more laughter. 

~

Later that evening, Keith was unfortunately bedridden. Of course, what should Lance have expected? Keith spent the entire day taking care of him and his fever; him winding up sick with whatever Lance had was just inevitable. Granted, he wasn’t feeling as bad as Lance did, but he was still in need of being taken care of. However, Keith’s attitude and stubbornness increased tenfold, a usual occurrence whenever he fell ill so everything became harder for the Cuban.

After begging and pleading for Keith to let him take his temperature, Lance faced a different kind of challenge – figuring out how to get Keith to take his medicine.

“Here.” The Cuban huffed, handing Keith the glass of juice to drink. Violet eyes narrowed at blue before Keith stared blankly at the glass in his hands, untouched.

“I’m not thirsty.” He deadpanned after a couple of seconds and glanced back up at his lover, trying to return the glass. Lance shook his head and glared at Keith in a reprimanding manner, 

“You’re going to drink that with your medicine.” Lance scolded and grabbed the bottle before Keith could protest, twisting it open and taking out a pill. He offered it to him, but Keith clamped his mouth shut, stubbornly denying both the drink and the pill. 

“Fine.” Lance said, voice unsettlingly calm as his hand retreated, “You can forget about cuddles too, if that’s how you’re going to behave.” He murmured and readied himself to get up. Keith’s eyes widened in surprise and he immediately caved, the mere thought of being without Lance or his cuddles upset him greatly. 

“Okay, okay… I’ll take it.” Keith muttered out, his gaze downcast as he fidgeted with the glass in his hands. “Just don’t go..” 

That being exactly what Lance wanted to hear, he smiled and a soft expression took over his features, 

“That’s what I thought.” He hummed in approval and handed Keith the pill, the older begrudgingly swallowing it along with a few sips of the juice. Lance took the cup from him and set it down on the night table, shifting under the sheets to pull him in for an embrace. Keith grunted but succumbed to the warmth his lover emitted, burying his face against his chest contently.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promised, planning to take care of Keith just like how he took care of Lance.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is encouraged! Please <3<3


End file.
